


A 12th Perigee's Eve Carol

by victorienne (orphan_account)



Category: A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/victorienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Twelfth Perigee's Eve on a Dickensian Skaia, and Dave Strider, being generally too cool and ungenerous, meets Perigee spirits show him who he was, is, and may be so that he learns to change his ways before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stave One: Pyrope's Ghost

Pyrope was dead: to begin with--barring shenanigans. But after four sweeps without receiving so much as one poorly drawn comic which used up half their stock of red ink, Strider was relatively certain that she was completely and irrevocably dead. But in all that time, he had never had her name removed from the sign above the office he still occupied. It still read "Strider & Pyrope," partly because Strider was too lackadaisical to get off his ass and fix it himself, partly because he was too parsimonious to pay some other idiot to do it, but mostly because it was ironic. Even when Pyrope was alive, he'd always done most of the work; the ironic sign merely proved it.  
It had been years since anyone had seen Dave Strider's countenance form itself into an expression which could not be categorised as either neutral or displeased, and no-one at all could remember his having ever said anything that could be considered decent or better. And that was just how Strider liked it. He couldn't possibly care less if anyone thought he was "kindhearted" or "respectable"--he was too cool to care about their opinions of him. Whenever he was out and about, passers-by knew him immediately by his ironic shades and stone-cold expression and gave him a wide berth.

  
But there was one who refused to take the hint. As Strider sat at his desk, poring over a stack of papers, he heard the door open as his sister admitted herself.

> Happy 12th Perigee's Eve, Nepeta.

  
Strider's clerk looked up from her work and smiled broadly.

> happy 12th purrig33's eve, to you, too, rose!

  
Strider peered through the open door into his clerk's room.

> bah humbug

  
Strider used this particular phrase often because it sounded like something a very uncool old man would use. And he recalled that, some years back, he had promised someone that he would bleat like a goat. The irony of those two words ran pretty deep.  
His sister raised an eyebrow at his turn of phrase.

> I fail to understand how you can continue to wallow in your stagnant pond of gloom at such a joyous time.
> 
> no rose  
> look closer and you will see that this pond in which i am wallowing is the most joyous fucking pond  
> i am up to my eyeballs in this beautiful shit  
> my wallowing is so complete that behind these shades im weeping waterfalls of joy and fucking rainbows like you wouldnt even believe  
> my soul is full to bursting with all this happy rainbow shit
> 
> You're certainly full of something.

  
Rose sighed heavily and advanced through the open door into Strider's office. She held out a delicately calligraphed envelope. On it, his name, David Strider, was inscribed in jade ink in a beautiful hand.

> nope

  
Strider returned to his prior occupation without taking the envelope.

> And what would be your excuse for not attending Perigee's Eve supper this year?
> 
> i dont need one  
> why celebrate its just some shitty troll custom  
> youre a human
> 
> Thank you for pointing out this elusive fact, Dave.  
> You need not be a troll to celebrate with us. The holiday's origin is in troll culture, certainly, but it has grown to something beyond an archaic ritual. It should be a time to gather with friends and family and eat large quantities of meat in honour of a significantly less appealing old troll custom.
> 
> bah humbug
> 
> Stop saying that. You sound ridiculous.
> 
> bah  
> humbug

  
Rose dropped the envelope onto his desk amid his other papers.

> At least take the invitation. Kanaya has insisted that you should join us though you have refused three sweeps running. I don't want to return home with yet another invitation you refused to even dignify with a brief perusal.
> 
> shit  
> fine  
> why did you marry her anyway
> 
> Because we fell in love. We're matesprits.

  
Strider scoffed derisively.

> matesprits  
> if anythings more fucked up than 12th perigees eve thats it  
> thats really all there is to say on the matter
> 
> Very well. I have received your response quite clearly, as I generally do, although I do not usually like said responses. As always, if by some miracle, you choose to cease acting like a foolish, joy-loathing simpleton and change your mind, you are, more or less, still welcome to attend.  
> Good afternoon and a Happy 12th Perigee's Eve to you.

  
Rose turned on her heel and stalked off toward the door, exchanging a small sympathetic smile with Nepeta as she passed. As his sister departed, Strider grunted and returned, at last, to his work. But the senseless interruptions, of course, were not yet at their end.  
Two trolls, bundled up against the cold, their cheeks and noses flushed with their noble blood colours from the icy wind, hurried inside as Rose departed. They stood, shivering, by the clerk's fire for a moment. One of them glanced nervously into the other room and whispered something to his compatriot. She, however, laughed lightly and sifted through the contents of her bag before approaching Strider's office. When she stood before his desk, he looked up begrudgingly, and she curtseyed politely before handing him her card, a charming smile on her face.

> GLUB!  
> ) (-----ELLO!  
> T) (is is Strider and Pyrope's, rig) (t? Am I speaking wit) ( Mr. Strider or Mr. Pyrope?
> 
> strider  
> and it was ms. pyrope
> 
> "Was?"
> 
> four sweeps ago today was when she kicked the bucket  
> pretty literally actually  
> no weird troll jizz or spit or whatever you all have for the imperial drone no more pyrope  
> and thats really all there is to say on the matter
> 
> OH NO!!  
> I'm so sorry to ) (ear t) (at!

  
The lady turned to the gentleman standing beside her.

> See, Eridan! I told you ) (e would be sympat)(etic!

  
Her scarf-wearing compatriot narrowed his eyes at Strider, unconvinced. She turned back to the man behind the desk.

> My name is Feferi Peixes, and t) (is is my bass-ociate, Eridan Ampora. We are members--flounders, really--of t) (e Culling and Remedying Party--or CARP, for s) (ort.
> 
> really
> 
> fef i told you wwe shouldnt use carp
> 
> Eridan, stop carping!  
> O) (.  
> I sea your point.  
> Any) (ow, we, w) (atever we are calling ourselves, support the redefinition of "Culling" to mean caring for t) (ose less fortunate. In particular, we ) (ope to rid Skaia of t) (e sole-less killing of t) (ose w) (o want to take t) (eir time filling t) (eir cod-rants.  
> So in t) (ese days of giving, would you, perch-ance, like to make a donation? W) (hat s) (ould I put you down for?

  
Feferi took up a pen, poised to record the sum he announced. But Strider could not immediately determine how to respond. Even as his stomach knotted itself as he recalled that day four sweeps ago, he intended to reply ironically. But master of cool though he was, he could not manage to keep his sentiments true to his apathetic visage. And so, presently lacking his capability for ironic statements, he resorted to his most common and readily available alternative: being a terrific asshole.

> jack shit

  
Feferi looked up at him quizzically.

> You want to donate under a pseudonym?
> 
> fuck you are such a dumbass  
> im saying im not giving you anything
> 
> But you have the c) (ance to make sure w) (at ) (appened to your friend will never happen to anot) (er troll!!
> 
> jegus she was my business partner not my friend  
> i could not possibly give less of a shit about a bunch of worthless trolls if i tried  
> it cant be that hard just find somebody you hate and somebody you dont and bam not dead  
> how hard is that shit to figure out
> 
> IT'S NOT T) (AT SIMPL------E!!
> 
> i told you he wwas a fuckin wwaste of time fef  
> these humans are wworse than the fuckin landwwellers  
> but hes got the right idea wwe dont need to lowwer ourselves for these fuckin lowwbloods
> 
> Just because you don't want to ) (elp people below you in t) (e ) (emospectrum doesn't mean you s) (ould look for any opportunity to jump s) (ip!
> 
> so you give less of a shit about this than me if thats possible  
> nice bro
> 
> fuck off im doin this for fef
> 
> or are you preparing for when the imperial drone comes for your charming ass and you have nothing but the tears resulting from four quadrants full of nothing but air to fill his pails  
> your priceless purple tears spilling over--
> 
> fuck you  
> im just more selectivve you fuckin dick  
> besides fef is my moirail right fef
> 
> Um, Eridan, we've been over t) (is...
> 
> wwhat
> 
> ahahahaha this is too perfect  
> now take your completely platonic squabble out of here  
> im trying to get shit done here
> 
> At least Eridan is trying! S) (ore, ) (e's not t) (e kindest, but you're just a sole-less--
> 
> bah humbug  
> and thats really all there is to say on the matter

  
Thoroughly exasperated, Feferi snatched her card off Strider's desk and all but dragged a distraught Eridan back out the way they came.

As the hours passed, a thick fog rolled in, and the air grew impossibly cold. As often as she dared, Nepeta retrieved coal from the coalbox in Strider's office for her own small fire. Outside could be heard the laughter and shouting of children sliding down the ice that had formed smooth sheets over the street.  
At one point, a few children briefly postponed their skating to carol at Mr. Strider's door. As though expecting them, Strider rose from his desk upon the first note. They were not half a stanza into "Gog Rest Ye Merry Prospitians" before the door opened before them to reveal a very tall, very intimidating, and very cool Dave Strider. As he stood there, peering down at them through his shades, they went completely silent and backed away slowly. When they had dispersed, Strider shut the door silently  and returned to his office, laughing. His laugh was a peculiar one, betraying none of its originator's emotions or thoughts and never directing the corners of his mouth upward or downward.  
Some time later, closing time arrived. Nepeta put out her fire, neatened her desk, and donned her ragged coat. Playing with the tail attached to her coat, she waited silently for Strider to emerge from his office. When he finally did so, she looked at him with her best imitation of sad kitty eyes.

> so you want tomorrow off right
> 
> yes! purrtty please!
> 
> why  
> you want to get paid for sitting on your ass all day  
> that shit should not fly
> 
> its just one day all sw33p sir!
> 
> fuck  
> fine i guess i have to just bend over and take it  
> bend down and--
> 
> thank you mr. strider!
> 
> sure whatever  
> just be really fucking early the next morning
> 
> yes sir!  
> a happy 12th purrig33s eve to you!
> 
> bah humbug

  
Nepeta Leijon bounded out of the office and skated down the icy street toward home. Strider, however, made his way slowly to Jeff & Brothers' Tavern. After taking his supper there, he headed home in darkness. His chambers, having previously belonged to his deceased business partner, were painted in garish hues of red and orange and scribbled upon with dozens of colours of chalk. Strider never gave enough of a shit to have it cleaned off and left it as an ironic statement to imply that he was somehow attached to the hideous facade.  
It should be noted, once more, that Pyrope had been long dead. This fact, of course, will never be relevant again in any way. As he approached his door, Strider thought nothing of Pyrope or the bizarre exterior of his home which she had made so. After fishing his key out of his pocket and turning it in the lock, he happened to glance down and jumped a bit.

> oh shit oh fuck  
> oh  
> its just that creepy-ass doorknocker that tz had made of herself  
> fuck

  
But as he looked at the knocker, it turned to look at him.

> H3H3H3H3H3H3H3H3
> 
> what the fuck  
> shit shit shit

  
Strider shoved the door open, entered the relative safety of his ironic abode, and slammed the door behind him. After leaning against the closed door for a moment, he collected himself, adjusted his shades, and lit the candle that stood in an unpolished silver candleholder on the table beside the door. He held up the candle and looked around the entryway, almost expecting Pyrope to have returned to reclaim her shitty chambers. But there were no sounds in all the house save for his own forcibly steady breathing. Though calm once again, as he began ascending the stairs, he continued listening for any noises besides his own footfalls.  
The irony was not lost on him that, in a house which Pyrope, in her blindness, had needed to paint from top to bottom to smell her way around, he was also blind enough to need another sense since he was too cool to take off his shades in the dark and too much of a cheapass to buy enough candles for the whole damn house. If he had, however not been either so cool or such a cheapass, he would have seen a ghostly a ghostly hearse traversing the staircase before him. He would, then, have been significantly alarmed but calmed himself quickly, as cool guys are wont to do. But since he was who he was, he had no fucking clue there was a hearse on his stairs and got the whole way up the stairs none the wiser to the weird shit that yet awaited him that night.  
Though he was still a bit shaken from his run-in with the cackling doorknocker, he was too lazy to do anything but go to his bedroom, put on his dressing gown, and sit before the fire. As he sat there, pondering the day's potential as material for one of his sick rhymes, the bell above the fireplace began to ring. For some ridiculous reason, this bell was connected to the highest floor in the building and had never once been rung since he had taken up occupancy of Pyrope's chambers. Though the ringing began quietly, it gradually grew deafening, and just as Strider was about to throw something at it, it stopped suddenly. Half a moment later, there came a scraping and clacking noise disturbingly specifically like a cane being pushed along the floor from the levels below.

> what the fuck  
> is it just try to scare the piss out of dave strider but fail miserably because he is too fucking cool for this shit day or what  
> no fuck this

  
As any reasonable, coolguy would do, he readjusted his shades and returned to contemplating the fire as the scraping grew louder. The noise stopped just outside the door to his bedroom (which he had bolted shut for ironic purposes) and opened it. But Strider, ever the coolguy was prepared. He instantly drew a sword out from under his chair and vaulted toward whoever the dumbass was who decided to interrupt his contemplation of strict beats.  
His stroke fell--through the ghost and directly to the floor. A familiar troll stood before him, albeit rather more transparent--and, if possible, even creepier--than he remembered, her hands resting on her dragon-headed cane.

> H3LLO, D4V3
> 
> tz  
> the fuck are you doing  
> youre dead
> 
> TH4NKS, D4V3  
> YOUR3 SM3LL1NG W3LL YOURS3LF
> 
> jegus fuck  
> let me just sit my ass down and wait for a fucking parade of dead people to walk through my door  
> all this happiness and excitement up in here  
> weve got the bright colors already  
> check
> 
> W1LL TH3R3 B3 C4NDY, D4V3?
> 
> fuck yes  
> throwing those fuckers are throwing a shit ton of candy and confetti and shit  
> look all the people are starting to file in  
> theres my bro  
> and theres--
> 
> W41T  
> NO  
> W3 DONT H4V3 T1M3 FOR YOUR 3XT3ND3D M3T4PHORS R1GHT NOW D4V3!  
> YOUR3 1N TROUBL3!
> 
> well let me just fucking drop everything and tell all these sad kids to get their asses home because there is no fucking parade  
> because we have serious fucking business to get to here
> 
> H3H3H3
> 
> now that all those assholes got themselves the fuck out of here whats this shit about
> 
> YOUR3 K1ND OF 4N 4SSHOL3, D4V3
> 
> oh shit pyrope  
> call those fuckers back in here we got some serious breaking news in here  
> we--
> 
> STOP TH4T, D4V3!  
> 1M S3RIOUS!

  
She did indeed look more serious than he'd ever seen her before. She'd not even looked that concerned on that fateful day, the last time he'd ever seen her. Or seen her alive, at least.

> yeah sure  
> did you want to sit down and chill by the fire as we talk about your serious business  
> can you even sit down
> 
> OF COURS3 1 C4N, D4V3  
> 1M ONLY D34D
> 
> well why the fuck did i even ask
> 
> H3H3H3  
> OH, LOOK YOU 3V3N K3PT MY F4VOR1TE CH41R!  
> 1TS SM3LL1NG 4 L1TTL3 MOR3 L1K3 4PR1COTS TH4N OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S, BUT TH4TS OK  
> 1TS GOOD TO SM3LL TH1S PL4C3 4G41N  
> OH, R1GHT  
> S3R1OUS BUS1N3SS  
> YOUR3 1N TROUBL3, D4V3, BUT W3R3 GO1NG TO H3LP YOU OUT
> 
> we
> 
> Y3S, NOW HUSH  
> YOUV3 B33N 4 T3RR1F1C 4SSHOL3 FOR 4WH1L3 NOW, D4V3, 4ND 1TS T1M3 YOU STOPP3D
> 
> well shit is that all  
> so i just never act like a dick again  
> problem fucking solved
> 
> NO, 1TS NOT, D4V3  
> 3V3N YOU C4N SM3LL TH4T
> 
> is this about what happened  
> you know i--
> 
> 1 KNOW, D4V3, 4ND TH1S 1SNT 4BOUT M3  
> 1TS 4BOUT YOU  
> 1 TH1NK YOUR PROBL3M 1S TH4T YOUR3 4N 4SSHOL3 4ND YOU KNOW 1T 4ND TH1NK 1T M4K3S YOU 4 COOLGUY  
> BUT 4T TH3 S4M3 T1M3, YOU C4NT FORG1V3 YOURS3LF FOR B31NG S41D COOLGUY  
> SO YOU JUST K33P B31NG 4 D1CK TO 3V3RYON3 B3C4US3 YOUR3 CONFUS3D, 4ND TH3 CYCL3 R3P34TS
> 
> fuck you sound like my sister
> 
> TH3N YOUR S1ST3R 1S R1GHT!  
> C4NT YOU SM3LL TH4T TH1S 1S 4 PROBL3M, D4V3?
> 
> fuck no  
> im awesome and i know it  
> how is this a problem
> 
> YOU DONT B3L13V3 1T, D4V3
> 
> that still doesnt explain why the fuck youre here
> 
> TO H3LP YOU, OBV1OUSLY
> 
> i dont need help  
> besides youre dead  
> how the fuck are you going to help anything
> 
> W3LL, 1M NOT GO1NG TO DO 4NYTH1NG, SP3C1F1C4LLY  
> 1 W4S S3NT TO 1NFORM YOU OF WH4T W1LL H4PP3N SO YOU DONT 3X3CUT3 4N 4CROB4T1C FUCK1NG P1ROU3TT3 OFF TH3 H4NDL3 4ND F4LL ON YOUR F4C3 WH3N 1T 4LL H4PP3NS
> 
> oh yeah send me a dead chick to smooth shit over  
> seriously this shit is so fucking smooth right now  
> im sliding on it  
> its like fucking ice up in here  
> get those kids back in here and--
> 
> CONTROL YOUR M3T4PHORS, D4V3!
> 
> all right  
> heres me lassoing those fuckers  
> now theyre in the corral being chill as fuck
> 
> H3H3H3  
> GOOD WORK, P4RTN3R  
> JUST L1K3 ON3 OF YOUR HUM4N COWBOYS
> 
> thanks pyrope
> 
> NO PROBL3M, MR STR1D3R  
> 1 TH1NK MOST OF MY 3XPL4N4T1ON T1M3 W4S BLOWN ON YOUR M3T4PHORS, BUT TH4TS OK  
> 4LL YOU N33D TO KNOW 1S TH4T YOU W1LL B3 H4UNT3D BY THR33 SP1R1TS
> 
> the fuck--
> 
> NOT 4LL 4T ONC3, 4ND 1M NOT 1NCLUD3D 1N THOS3 THR33  
> TH3Y W1LL CONV3Y TH1NGS YOU MUST SM3LL TO CH4NG3 4ND 4VO1D TH3 F4T3 TH4T 4W41TS 4LL 4SSHOL3S 1F TH3Y F41L TO CH4NGE
> 
> what fate is that
> 
> 1 DONT KNOW  
> 1 W4SNT 4N 4SSHOL3  
> BUT 1TS SOM3TH1NG R34LLY B4D  
> 1 H34R 1T 1NVOLV3S PLUSH-RUMP3D PUPP3TS
> 
> fuck no  
> send these fucking spirits at me
> 
> 3XP3CT TH3 F1RST GHOST WH3N TH3 B3LL TOLLS ON3
> 
> aw shit  
> i wanted some fucking sleep for once in my gogdamn life
> 
> H3H3H3  
> TH3 WORK OF 4 COOLGUY 1S N3V3R DON3, 1S 1T, D4V3?
> 
> fucking nailed that one tz
> 
> H3H3H3

  
Pyrope rose from her chair, and Strider followed suit. He stepped toward her, a hand extended, but she held up her own, causing him to halt. She grinned at him sadly--how she could do that, he never knew--and he looked back at her, his expression unaffected.

> it was good to see you tz  
> or smell you i guess
> 
> 1T W4S GOOD TO SM3LL YOU, TOO D4V3
> 
> look  
> about what happened  
> i want to--

  
She held up her hand again, her sharp-toothed grin fading slightly into a small, sorrowful smile.

> 1TS 4LL R1GHT  
> YOU C4NT CH4NG3 WH4T H4PP3N3D  
> 1T W4SNT R34LLY YOUR F4ULT  
> BUT 1 FORG1V3 YOU
> 
> thanks tz

  
They stood, looking at one another, for a few moments. But Pyrope knew her time was nearly spent, and she waved at him briefly before swooping out Strider's closed bedroom window.  
Strider sat back down in his chair before the fire, resolving to get his ass in bed as soon as he could manage it.

> the fuck was that

  
And that time would undoubtedly be very soon. He was a coolguy. He was completely chill as fuck. As always.


	2. Stave Two: Perigrees Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Twelfth Perigee's Eve on a Dickensian Skaia, and Dave Strider, being generally too cool and ungenerous, meets Perigee spirits show him who he was, is, and may be so that he learns to change his ways before it's too late.

Shortly after Pyrope had departed through his window, Strider had managed to calm himself so completly that he fell asleep as soon as his head struck the pillow. But just over three hours later, he awoke to the chiming--and spastic flashing which shone even through his heavy bedcurtains--of his huge grandfather clock. That was why sensible people wore shades to bed.  
But before he could roll over to bury his face in his pillow, the clock had struck the hour--one o'clock--and ceased its seizure-inducing shenanigans. That was when he remembered Pyrope's ghost and her warning.

  
As soon as he began to wonder whether the events he recalled had truly occurred, there appeared another source of seizuriffic light from the other side of the room. this one flashed red and blue in turn, and this time, Strider managed to roll over and jam his pillow down over his head. He heard his bed curtains being drawn open and felt his pillow float out of his hands. The light had dimmed, so Strider ventured a glance.

> good morning 2un2hiine
> 
> oh fuck you
> 
> get up a22hole  
> ii have thiing2 two do
> 
> who the fuck are you
> 
> iim the gho2t of periigee2 pa2t
> 
> why are you talking like a tool
> 
> 2hut up iit2 a condiitiion ii have
> 
> haha you think i can take you seriously like this
> 
> thii2 ii2 exactly why you need two take thii2 2eriiou2ly  
> otherwii2e you end up iin the plu2hrump piit
> 
> fuck  
> fine but taking whatever the fuck this is going to be up the ass better be more pleasurable than those fucking puppets  
> shit what am i saying  
> compared to those plush-rumped fuckers literally anything else would seem fucking orgasmic
> 
> exactly 2o 2hut up and lii2ten  
> anyway liike ii 2aiid iim the gho2t of periigee pa2t
> 
> like how past  
> like way the fuck in the past like cavetrolls and dinobeasts
> 
> no dumba22 what good would that do you  
> iim goiing to 2how you your pa2t periigee2 eve2  
> iim about to jump out thii2 wiindow ju2t follow me
> 
> oh yeah let me just go jump out this fucking window and fly like a bird  
> just like a fucking ostrich or whatever the fuck you trolls call them  
> right into the ground  
> and then youll have a--
> 
> ju2t 2top  
> pyrope warned me about your runaway metaphor2 iim not putting up wiith that 2hiit  
> ju2t grab my hand and youll be able to fly
> 
> oh yeah so much fucking love up in here  
> i didnt know our relationship had come so far in five fucking minutes that youre asking for my hand already  
> well shit its getting so fucking matrimonial up in here  
> were--
> 
> 2hut up and take my hand iif you dont want to end up a 2tupiid human puddle on the ground
> 
> well when you put it like that still fucking no
> 
> iit2 thii2 or all tho2e plu2h rump2 dave
> 
> fuck fine

  
Strider reluctantly took the spirit's ghostly hand, and they leapt through the closed window. Just as they should have crashed through the glass, Strider felt himself fall face-first into a snowbank.

> heheheh
> 
> thut up ghotht boy

  
When Strider picked himself up and dusted himself off, he looked around. It was a bright winter day, and he recognised the building before him as the school he had attended in his youth. Children were scattering in every direction, running to their families who had come to retrieve them for the holidays. Suddenly, one little boy plowed straight into Strider--and straight through him.

> the2e are the 2hadows of the pa2t they dont 2ee u2
> 
> yeah so whats the point of this  
> the schools about to be as empty as a--
> 
> not quiite empty  
> two kiid2 are 2tiil here

  
The spirit walked through the wall of the main building, and Strider followed him. They stood in a nearly deserted classroom.

> do you recogniize them

  
Sitting side-by-side on a desk were younger versions of himself and his sister.

> hell yeah little me  
> look how awesome i was even back then  
> man i forgot rose and i didnt always argue back then  
> those were good times when she didnt bitch at me all the time
> 
> why couldnt you go back two beiing that way
> 
> dunno we both just kind of hate each other now  
> it just kind of happened

  
Strider fell silent to listen to his younger self and his sister talking.

> so bro isnt coming  
> we just have to stay here for the holidays  
> this is going to be so shitty just like it always is  
> no one else is even staying theres going to be nothing to do here
> 
> It'll be all right, Dave. At least we'll be here together.
> 
> yeah i guess
> 
> I'm sure we'll be able to get up to some shenanigans on our own.  
> You can show me some of these "sick rhymes" you've been painstakingly crafting and bragging about.
> 
> oh yeah almost forgot about those  
> maybe the holidays wont be so bad  
> might even be pretty sweet  
> want to go to the boys dormitory so i can show you some of the epic new shit ive been working on
> 
> That sounds lovely, Dave.

  
The younger versions of Strider and his sister bolted from the classroom, chattering animatedly about what exciting things they could do over the holidays with presence of only minimal adult supervision.

> rose used to be so fucking cool  
> wonder what happened
> 
> maybe youre mii2taking the one who changed the mo2t
> 
> yeah maybe

  
The ghost then turned and walked through a different wall, and Strider followed suit. He found himself on lamp-lit street before a familiar door.

> you know thii2 place riight
> 
> oh fuck yeah  
> tz and i were apprenticed here  
> man those were some good fucking times

  
Walking through the door, Strider saw his former employer casting about for something.

> HeY lItTlE mOtHeRfUcKeRs.  
> cAn YoU bE aLl CoMiN iN hErE aNd ShIt?

  
Younger versions of Strider and Pyrope hurried into the room several moments later.

> HeY tHeRe LiTtLe BrOs. hOwS iT mOtHeRfUcKiN gOiNg?
> 
> ok
> 
> GR34T!

  
They all paused for a moment.

> YOU C4LL3D US?
> 
> Oh YeAh. YoU bE rIgHt My LiTtLe SiStEr.  
> iT's BeIn ThE tImE tO gEt ReAdY fOr ThE pArTy, My LiTtLe MoThErFuCkErS!  
> ClEaR tHaT wOrK sHiT aLl OuTtA tHe WaY. dOn'T nEeD tHaT sHiT tOnIgHt.  
> iT's GoNnA bE nOtHiN bUt MoThErFuCkIn MiRaClEs Up In HeRe ToNiGht, Am I rIgHt?
> 
> sure
> 
> Y34H! H3H3H3

  
The corner of Strider's mouth twitched upward as he watched Pyrope and his younger self pushing desks covered in brightly coloured papers out of the way and hauling piles of horns into an adjoining room.

> makara was the weirdest fucker ive ever met  
> he was such a shitty boss i dont know how he didnt end up up to his fucking vacant eyeballs in debt  
> and then he kept throwing these ridiculous perigees eve parties  
> i dont know how but he just kept treading water and shit and kept his ass afloat
> 
> waxiing poetic are we
> 
> nah he was just a fucking awesome dude  
> and thats really all there is to say on the matter

  
The spirit's eyes flashed, and some hours passed in a blink. There was then a vast crowd dancing and laughing in the suddenly cleared room. Perigee's Eve decorations were hung on the walls and doors and rafters, and musicians were playing a spritely reel.

> who2 that youre danciing wiith
> 
> oh shit man you didnt just bring me to that night
> 
> what were 2eeiing ii2 your problem not miine

  
Strider walked around the edge of the room to get a better look at his younger self and his partner. It was just as he'd feared. The woman with whom he danced had long black hair, green eyes, and wore huge, round glasses. However, out of any part of her countenance, it was her ecstatic smile that drew the most of Strider's attention. It was not until the ghost touched him on the shoulder that he looked at his younger self. He, too, was grinning--a great, stupid grin that overwhelmed his whole countenance.

> you 2eem two have liiked her
> 
> no shit  
> harley was pretty much the sweetest person i ever met  
> yeah man i liked her a lot
> 
> there wa2 another periigee2 eve wiith her
> 
> fuck no  
> im calling this shit off right here  
> im stopping this train wreck right here  
> these mashed up cars are--

Before he could finish yet another ridiculously drawn-out metaphor, Strider found himself being dragged by the spirit through the nearest wall.  
He found himself in a dimly lit, but familiar room. He once again saw himself from the past, but he was clearly some years older than he had been during the scene he had just observed. This version of himself and Harley seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion.

> im telling you youve changed dave!!  
> you used to be so sweet and fun and now i dont know what to think of you!!!  
> now everything you do has to be ironic!  
> you cant just be dave anymore!!  
> and i loved that dave...
> 
> i cant get out of being dave  
> im just trying to be a less shitty dave  
> whys that so hard to understand
> 
> that shitty dave was my friend!!!!  
> that shitty dave even loved me and i dont know what this less shitty dave thinks......  
> i dont know if he can even feel anything anymore....  
> who are you trying to impress dave??
> 
> no one  
> the real world is just fucking cold as balls jade  
> if i dont act the same way those balls are going to swing my way and knock me right the fuck away from everything i have  
> including you
> 
> youve already done that for yourself dave!!!  
> its not like you care about me anymore im just a liability
> 
> no youre not  
> im doing this for you for both of us
> 
> then tell me you still love me
> 
> you should fucking know i do
> 
> but i dont because you never say anything!!!!  
> shitty dave would have beaten around the bush but he would have said it....  
> this dave i dont know what he thinks.....  
> im sorry but i just dont know this dave.........
> 
> please dont leave
> 
> im sorry dave....

  
Strider watched as Harley opened the door and strode out of his chambers. What hurt the most was that she'd not even seemed angry--just sad. It wasn't until he saw the ghost offering him a handkerchief that he realised there were tears on his cheeks.

> shit  
> no  
> no fucking more of this

  
But the ghost silently took his hand and led him through a wall. Strider tried to protest but could not summon the words to do so. They arrived in his and Pyrope's office to see the partners sitting and talking quietly.

> do you remember thii2
> 
> fuck

  
That was one day Strider wished he never had to think of again, but he did. Frequently.

> nah tz youll be fine  
> youre a fucking legislacerator they cant do anything to you
> 
> 1 DONT KNOW, D4V3
> 
> were just too fucking good for that shit  
> matesprit kismesis you dont fucking need those tz  
> youre better off without anyone else getting all up in your shit  
> people have gotten out of collections before right  
> they know you work for the most awesome firm in skaia they wont fucking touch you
> 
> H3H3H3 W3 4R3 PR3TTY 4W3SOM3, 4R3NT W3 D4V3?
> 
> we are so fucking awesome they need a better word for us  
> but they cant come up with one awesome enough for how fucking cool we are
> 
> H3H3H3H3  
> 1M ST1LL WORR13D THOUGH  
> 1 DONT KNOW 1F 1 C4N B3 4S COOL 4BOUT 1T 4S YOU WOULD B3
> 
> fuck it sure you can  
> when the imperial drone comes just open that fucking door say fuck you and slam it in his face  
> fucking easiest thing ever
> 
> 1 GU3SS 1 DONT H4V3 MUCH CHO1C3 4T TH1S PO1NT
> 
> do you need me to give you a sicknasty motivational rap
> 
> H3H3H3  
> NO, 1LL B3 OK D4V3, TH4NKS  
> 1 GU3SS 1 SHOULD G3T GO1NG  
> 1 W4NT TO B3 R3ST3D UP FOR 4LL TH4T COOLGUY DOORSL4MM1NG 1M GO1NG TO B3 DO1NG TOMORROW
> 
> fuck yeah
> 
> SHOULD W3 P4RT4K3 1N 4 BRO BUNP, JUST 1N C4S3?
> 
> sure tz
> 
> R41LS B3FOR3 P41LS, R1GHT MR STR1D3R?
> 
> nailed that one pyrope  
> right on the fucking head  
> that shit is so fucking legit nailed in there its never coming apart
> 
> TH4NKS, D4V3

  
As they bro b<>nped, Dave realised that he had covered his mouth with his hand to avoid choking on his own breath.

> that2 enough ii thiink  
> iill 2end you back now dave

  
Dave nodded, and in a moment, found himself back in his bedroom. He collapsed onto his bed and pressed his fingertips to his eyes, trying to forget everything once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is currently being repaired, so the fic is kind of stalled for a bit. Sorry 'bout that!


End file.
